


A Subtle Piece of Vegetarian Propaganda Written by an Omnivore

by SiriuslyPadfoot



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 13:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiriuslyPadfoot/pseuds/SiriuslyPadfoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leaving one's cell phone number in one of the phones at a Verizon store is a questionable decision, because there are buttheads who will contact aforementioned number.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Elizabeth was not in a very good mood when she came home from school. There wasn’t any particular reason as to why she was in a bad mood, but she had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with walking home in the rain. Normally she liked the rain. Especially when it was misty and made everything foggy and grey and made the leaves that were normally crunchy not crunchy. But this was not that kind of rain. This was the kind of rain that probably ended up soaking through her backpack and drenching her books. And the thunder had been loud and annoying. The lighting was also slightly terrifying, but she didn’t really want to admit that.

She might have been more okay with the rain if she didn’t have her textbooks. She didn’t really need them either, she had been planning on being somewhat productive that evening and brought them home, only to find the text her father had sent her, informing her that he had taken the car and she was going to walk home. Going back inside against the throng of people was not worth the lighter backpack, or so she thought. Upon her arrival home, she seriously regretted that decision. 

The rain had put her in a pissy enough mood that she didn’t want to do work anymore. Her history textbook had taken the brunt of the water, and the pages were even more warped than they were when she got the book. Elizabeth stared at her book for a very long while before throwing the book away. It seemed to be easier to manage that way. It wasn’t like she was planning on using it anytime soon. She would just tell her teacher she lost it. 

After finding a bag of potato chips to eat in front of the computer, Elizabeth heard her phone go off in her pocket. She glared at it, waiting for the annoying tone to stop. It wasn’t stopping. Elizabeth did not appreciate it when people called her. And she had been looking forward to licking the chip residue off her fingers. When she fished her phone out, Elizabeth stared at the name of the screen. It was Zach. Elizabeth didn’t particularly care for his existence. She answered it anyway though, lest he leave her annoying voicemails complaining that they never hung out anymore. Elizabeth had a very good reason for why she never hung out with Zach anymore: he was kind of an annoying dickhead. 

“Do you want to come to the mall with me?” he asked.

Oh, yes. Hello to you to. “Do I have to?” she whined, the mall was several towns over and took two and a half hours to get to. Elizabeth never thought the drive was worth it.

“We haven’t hung out in forever. And I can pick you up.”

“But this chair is very comfortable, and there is walking required at the mall. And there are people there. The mall is not a fun place to be.”

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”

“No.”

“Can I come over?” 

“My parents are out.”

“So?”

“You have testes.”

“What?”

“My parents don’t like it when I have boys over.”

“But we aren’t going to do anything. We’re just friends.”

That was debatable. Elizabeth didn’t really consider Zach her friend. “You are welcome to attempt to make them change the rule.”

“Please come to the mall.”

“I really don’t think you understand this chair. Also there are chips here.”

“I’ll buy you chips if you come with me.”

“I don’t need chips. I have some.”

“You get more.” 

“I don’t need more. I have a bag. I need a raincoat.”

“I’ll buy you a raincoat.” 

“No you won’t.”

“I’m coming over.”

Elizabeth hung up. She hadn’t really thought she would be able to talk Zach out of the mall. He had an odd fascination with it. He had an odd fascination with leaving the house. Elizabeth had a calendar marking off the days until he could drive, hoping that once he had free reign of the town he would realize how uncool it really was, but if anything, it only intensified his need to explore. If she begged hard enough, he might buy her a raincoat though. Not that she would wear it. Raincoats are not very practical clothes to own. Unless one lives in an inherently rainy location, Elizabeth didn’t think it rained often or hard enough to really require one, especially when she had perfectly functional normal coats. Raincoats weren’t even warm. Elizabeth also owned umbrellas, she considered taking one with her when she was retying her shoes, but Zach might not buy her a raincoat if he thought she was already sufficiently armed against the torrential downpour.

Instead of texting her to notify her of his arrival like a normal person, Zach honked the horn loudly until Elizabeth angrily stomped outside and wrenched his car door open. He looked far too happy for someone who had almost had his car door broken off. Not that she would have actually broken off his car door. But Elizabeth would really have liked to. She really just wanted him to hate her, because if Zach hated her, he would leave her alone and probably spread rumors and complain about her to his mom like he did with everyone else that had been mean to him. Elizabeth was aware that it was rude and unfriendly and probably inappropriate to think that, but she really, really didn’t care because it was Zach. She didn’t really count Zach as a person, because it seemed hard for her to process that so much annoying could be forced into such a tiny body.

The reason Zach wanted to go to the mall was so he could stare at things in the Apple store. Elizabeth put up with him long enough to follow him there, and then said that she needed to go change her tampon so he wouldn’t try to follow her into the bathroom or something. Because sometimes he did stuff like that. Elizabeth briefly considered hiring someone to pickpocket his keys so she could drive home, but it seemed easier to just take a bus and leave. Elizabeth didn’t really know how to use the bus though. And she certainly wasn’t going to put that much effort into avoiding Zach, so she just walked around the mall for a while. Eventually she meandered into the Verizon store and clicked around on the phones for a bit. She took a picture of herself and created a contact with her phone number. Maybe she would be able to make new friends that way. Friends that weren’t Zach. Elizabeth would greatly appreciate friends that were not Zach.

The phone store wasn’t very fun for very long. It hadn’t really been all that fun to begin with, but it had lost the little charm it had after Elizabeth had used x amount of face warp apps. She decided that a sandwich would make her feel better. Zach found her when she was in line for Subway. He walked up behind her and jumped on her shoulders, making a high pitched squealing noise. Elizabeth turned around and made a mean face. Zach laughed. 

“I thought you were going to…,” he trailed off, terrified to say the word tampon and mention Elizabeth’s vagina at all. 

“I did. My period makes me hungry.” Elizabeth had finished her period last week.

“Oh…,” it was very easy to see how uncomfortable Zach was with the situation, on the inside, Elizabeth was smiling very widely.

Because she was slightly wicked, she dug her tampon case from her purse and asked Zach to hold it while she found her wallet. At first he seemed fine with it, until she found a stray tampon at the bottom of her bag and stuck it in the tin with the rest of them. Zach dropped the case and didn’t make to clean it up.

“They’re in their wrappers, are you fucking kidding me?”

Zach only made a semi-apologetic look, but Elizabeth was not convinced that he was very sorry. He looked more mortified than sorry. She thought about sticking one down his shirt to see his reaction, but that would probably be mean. She didn’t want to be the cause for the heart attack that was sure to occur if he came into contact with any feminine hygiene products. 

Zach seemed to get over it enough that he could order a sandwich of his own and eat with her. Elizabeth stared intently at the lettuce sitting on her wrapper and pretended to be interested in Zach’s newest plan to get rich. Zach thought of himself as an entrepreneur, but Elizabeth had yet to hear an idea that anyone besides him would find even remotely appealing. He was currently raving about some puns to put on a t shirt that was apparently going to make him rich after he posted it on his store. He had tried to make Elizabeth buy things from his store before. Mostly he sold mugs and mousepads with various different word art forms of his username on multiple websites. Elizabeth had looked at his products and said she would buy some after her next paycheck, but then she had to pay for application fees for various colleges and a bunch of other stuff that had stopped her. It seemed like Zach had gotten the message, which really was some kind of miracle, because he seemed to be oblivious to any of the hinting that Elizabeth did.

Luckily, he only seemed to not be very interested in spending the entire day with Elizabeth. He started walking away, and Elizabeth followed him because he was her only way of getting home. He walked into a Macy’s and found some raincoats. Elizabeth raised her eyebrows as she looked between the raincoats and Zach. 

“I said I would buy you a raincoat.”

Elizabeth walked out of the mall much more content than she had been when she walked in, because this time she had a raincoat. And a rainhat. She hadn’t been expecting the rainhat, but it had come with the coat and wearing rubber on her head was oddly satisfying. She had even thanked Zach for it. He offered for her to come back to his house so he could actually talk to her or something, but all of a sudden, Elizabeth was struck by an intense urge to do her homework. Zach had begged her to do it at his house, but she started talking about the ambience of her bedroom and the flow of chi and he pulled into her driveway and thanked her for coming with him. She told him she had had fun and went inside to not do her homework. 

***

Oscar really wasn’t quite sure why he wanted to be a neurobiology major. It had seemed like a very good idea for the first year when he was taking mostly gen ed. But now he was taking some actual neurobiology classes and they weren’t as fun as he thought they would have been. Oscar the neurobiologist didn’t have a very nice ring to it. He didn’t really want to go through the process of talking to his counselor and change his major though. Not a lot sounded very appealing. He had really only gone to college because it was recommended and his parents didn’t want him to work in a gas station. Oscar worked in a gas station anyway because tuition was expensive and he needed money to keep his XBOX Live subscription. His parents disapproved of him spending his money on XBOX and taking out students loans to cover his tuition, but Oscar was twenty and didn’t need them to tell him how to spend his money. So they had threatened to cut him off and he started being slightly more careful. Neurobiologists made a lot of money. He would probably pay off his student loans at some point. He could exchange his student loans for credit card debt, then he wouldn’t be one of the millions of adults complaining about student loans. Oscar wasn’t sure why being one of the millions of adults that complained about credit card debt seemed preferable, but he felt he liked them more. 

He might have found neurobiology more appealing if the people that were in the classes with him were appealing. Some of them had approached him and asked if he had understood the lesson. He didn’t quite know how to respond to that. Mostly, yes, he did sort of understand the lessons, but he didn’t understand until he had gone back to his apartment and stared at his notes for several hours and called his tutor and begged her to talk him through it. And then he had some sort of grasp on what had been taught. Usually he would just nod and say that he had found it very interesting and challenging, as if being challenged was a good thing. There was a difference between being properly challenged and having no fucking idea what he was even doing. Oscar felt more like the second one. He kept wanting to tell himself that he only had to finish the semester and then it would be summer and he could relax and be done with the college thing. However, that wasn’t the case, because there were still two more years of college that Oscar hadn’t completed. So, in general, Oscar just tried to not think about that. 

Of course, like most things, that was easier said than done, and Oscar found himself fretting about it quite often. He wasn’t scared that he would spend the rest of his life doing something that he hated, because that’s what most people ended up doing. It was inevitable that one’s interests would change over time, and he would either start off doing a job that he loved and then end up hating it later, or the exact opposite would happen. As long as Oscar liked his job for some minute period during his life, he would probably be content. He just really wasn’t sure if he would ever hit a point in his life where he would find neurobiology fun and worth spending his time on. It wasn’t like he was going to make any groundbreaking discoveries if he didn’t even understand the basics. But he supposed it would still be fun to introduce himself as Oscar the neurobiologist. At least it sounded cooler than Oscar the neurobiology major, which was what everyone on his floor called him during his freshman year.

The more he thought about the logistics of how he had become a sophomore in college and majoring in a thing he had little interest in and minimal talent, the more he started to blame his high school biology teacher for telling him he had the talent to go far in the field. He had only been fifteen at the time, which, now that he looked back on it, was not a good time to be making life choices. But nonetheless, he had chosen to go on and take hard science classes. They hadn’t been all that bad. He had taken enough AP classes that he didn’t have to take chemistry or physics, and even the AP Biology class wasn’t all the bad. Oscar assumed there had to have been something very different in the difficulties of biology and neurobiology, because it was either that or he had gotten stupider as he learned more, and Oscar didn’t think that was a very likely possibility. Oscar tried to keep an open mind, not an open enough mind to actually forgive the biology teacher that had recommended he go into the field in the first place, and before he could stop himself, he was drafting an email to her.

 

DEAR MS CHAMBERS,

 

YOU HAD ME AS A STUDENT SEVERAL YEARS AGO, AND YOU ENDED UP BEING A DECIDING FACTOR IN MY MAJOR CHOICE. I AM WRITING TO INQUIRE EXACTLY WHAT YOU WERE THINKING WHEN YOU RECOMMENDED I GO INTO NEUROBIOLOGY. NOW THAT I HAVE TAKEN A SUBSTANTIAL AMOUNT OF COURSES PERTAINING THE SUBJECT, I REALLY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU WERE THINKING, AND AM QUITE FRANKLY CONFUSED CONCERNING WHAT YOU SAW IN ME THAT APPEARED TO BE APTITUDE IN THE FIELD. 

 

HOPE YOU’RE DOING WELL, 

 

OSCAR MAYER

 

He was aware that it sounded rather rude and was slightly uncalled for, but he didn’t really care. Suggesting a fifteen year old become a neurobiologist was also slightly uncalled for, but that didn’t stop Ms Chambers. He didn’t know why he even bothered listening to her, he had only scraped a B in her class. To his credit though, he didn’t exactly do any of the homework and spent most of the time she spent going over notes on his phone. He probably could have gotten an A if he worked for it. Oscar didn’t really like working though. He suspected that was a reason he hated neurobiology so much, it was impossible for him to fuck around and still pass. Working at a gas station full time and living with his parents seemed like it would be a much easier life. It would also be less stressful. If he ever felt like he wanted a career, he could always climb up the Kwik Trip ladder or something. He was sure there had to be some high paid CEOs raking it in on the top. Maybe he could get his degree and start working on his gas company career. His parents would be so proud. He got excited about this new prospect and drove over to his parents’ house.

“Oscar, why are you here?” his mother seemed less than please. He didn’t blame her. Most of the reason his visited them on school nights was because he didn’t want to do any of his homework and sitting around watching television he didn’t have to pay for was a much better way to spend his time.

“I know what I’m going to do with my life.”

“What’s wrong with neurobiology?” his father asked from the couch. 

Oscar moved past his mother and into the living room, almost knocking over the picture of him in a wiener costume on his first Halloween. His parents had a cruel sense of humor. He had tried to get them charged with child abuse for his name and the forced costumes and photographs next to meat at every grocery store, but the law enforcement officials had done nothing. For the first half of his childhood, Oscar was under the impression that his parents must have just really hated him when he was a fetus and they were picking out names. And then they had told him that they had just liked the name Oscar and didn’t even think about their last name being Mayer, but they had only done that when he had run home from school crying, and the sounds of an Oscar Mayer wiener commercial could be heard from inside his bedroom. Oscar thought they were lying, but he accept their apology anyway. Oscar liked to think of himself as a good person, and good people accepted other people’s apologies. Unless they deserved to have a grudge held against them. Oscar thought his parents did, but they were his parents, and he had been led to believe that good people loved their parents. However, his parents had been the ones who taught him that, so he wasn’t sure about the bias in that belief. 

“What’s wrong with neurobiology is the neurobiology part of the classes I have to take to obtain a degree,” Oscar said coolly, sprawling out of the recliner across the room from his father.

“We’ve been over this, just go to your counselor and change your major.” 

“I want to have a degree in neurobiology. I was just thinking that it probably won’t be a very good career choice for me, and I should probably have a backup plan.”

His mother sighed. “Oscar, that’s why you go to your counselor. They’re there to help you with these things.” 

“I told you, I have it all figured out,” Oscar sat up, excited to tell them his plan. He waited until they looked expecting, and then dove in. “Okay, so, you know how I work at Kwik Trip?” There was a groan from the side of the room his parents were sitting on. “No, no, wait. So, I’m just running the register now, but I think I’m going to get promoted pretty soon. And once I get promoted, I can start taking business classes online or something. I can work my way up to the top of this ladder, and then I can apply for an executive position. And I’ll have a business degree and a neurobiology degree.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with neurobiology,” his father looked confused.

“I’ll have a neurobiology degree.” 

“Yes, but what are you going to do with it?”

“Mount it next to my business degree behind my desk.”

“Why don’t you just switch over to be a business major then?” his mother was looking very fed up with him.

“Because I don’t want to only major in business.”

“Then major in something that’s at least related to it!”

“But then I wouldn’t have a degree in neurobiology.”

“I think it’s time for you to go.”

“But _Manswers_ is almost on. It’s Tuesday.”

It was a Tuesday tradition that he and his father sat together and watched at least two episodes of _Manswers_.

“Dad, we always watch it.”

“How about this? You figure out what the hell you want to do with your life, and then you can come over and we can watch all the _Manswers_ you want.”

“I think watching it might give me some good ideas on what I want to go into.”

“I don’t want you going into anything featured on that show.”

“I just told you wanted I wanted to do with my life though.”

“If I have to pay for you to get a degree in neurobiology, you’re going to be a neurobiologist,” his mother yelled from the kitchen. Oscar presumed she was making dinner.

“Can I stay for dinner?”

“No, I didn’t make enough.”

Oscar frowned loudly at her and then he left. It hadn’t been very dark out when he went in, but when he came back out it was very dark. He thought going to bed might be a good idea, but then he looked at his car clock and saw it was only around eight. He still hadn’t done any of his homework. Oscar had very good intentions to do his homework when he got back, but when he walked in his two roommates were watching _Manswers_ and then that plan had just gone to hell. He didn’t even like _Manswers_ all that much. He thought it was kind of stupid and boring, but so was his homework and it wasn’t like doing his homework was going to make him understand his class any better, so he might as well have a slightly better time than if he had done his homework.

He ended up skipping all of his classes the next day. He had told his professors that he was sick, and apologized for missing the class. He even cared enough to message some quasi-strangers on Facebook who were in his classes and ask them to give him notes. Oscar thought that showed that he was making more than a substantial effort. He was not, as his emails to his teachers implied, sick. Oscar had spent the better part of the evening staying up and watching _Manswers_ with his roommates. Even after the network stopped airing it, Evan had gone out and rented some DVDs from a store and they had all ended up just falling asleep on the couch because after they realize it was four in the morning, none of them really felt like getting up to go to bed. Besides, there were blankets on the couch they could use. Neither of his roommates went to college. Ben was divorced and living with them until he “got back on his feet” but he had been living there for several months and didn’t seem like he making any sort of effort. And then Evan just didn’t care about college at all. He worked at a hotel. He did not share Oscar’s plan of starting with a low level job and working his way up the career ladder. He also did not share Oscar’s unamusement with his name, and made jokes concerning the wieners (and Oscar’s penis) frequently. As long as Evan wasn’t doing that though, Oscar thought he was enjoyable to be around.

After he had notified his professors that he was going to be gone, Oscar had promptly went back to bed and slept until noonish. When he woke up again, he was groggier than he had been in the first place and went to take a shower. Once he was finished with his shower, he went out for lunch, because he deserved some sort of reward for figuring his life out, but he was poor, and ended up having Taco Bell. It felt more like a punishment, and had definitely been a better idea than action. Despite his disappointment with his burrito, Oscar brought it back to his apartment and ate it anyway. That had provided him with something to do for about an hour. When he threw his stuff away, he saw a note from Evan saying that he had left to go on a date. So he decided to go ahead and watch the rest of _Manswers_. He was very upset when he saw they had gone through the entire series, and he was not in the mood to go out and rent the next season.  
Oscar soon became very, very bored. It was typical of him to be this bored, but it didn’t make him enjoy it anymore. He certainly wasn’t used to it yet. He had been amusing himself by throwing his roommate’s basketball against the wall, but then the other neighbors had come over and complained that it was annoying, and he didn’t like to be rude. After lying on his bed for several minutes, he came to the conclusion that he could go out somewhere and see if he could find something to do outside his apartment. He texted Evan to tell him he was leaving, only to have Evan come lumbering out of his room and announce that he was going with him. 

Neither of them had any idea where they really wanted to go, only that they wanted to go somewhere. And apparently they both found the mall an acceptable place. Evan had begged to go on the carousel, but Oscar had dragged him away, saying that twenty was too old to sit on a plastic horse and hold onto a pole. Evan disagreed. Oscar hadn’t really intended to go to the mall, because the mall was not an inherently interesting place. Malls are not fun. The experience of wasting money and buying pretzels is fun. So Oscar bought a pretzel. It wasn’t fun. Perhaps he would have been marginally more amused by it if he had money to spend on the pretzel and was actually hungry. 

They walked around, not talking besides arguing over who was leading every few minutes or so, and eventually Evan remembered that he needed to get his phone fixed, so they went to the phone store. Oscar did not like the phone store very much. There were several electronics and none of them were fun because none of them worked properly. Oscar went to the smart phones and opened up the contacts list. It didn’t make sense to him why people would put their names in phones for random strangers’ perusal, but Oscar wanted to peruse a random stranger’s phone number. Which is exactly what he did, because Oscar was a grown man and could take a phone number if he wanted. He decided on taking a number that belonged to an Elizabeth. He meant to call her, but Evan came back looking disgruntled and slightly insulted because the warranty was voided due to his dropping it in the toilet. Oscar gave him a consoling pat on the back.

Oscar told Evan to drive on the way back, because he wanted to contact Elizabeth and ask her why exactly she had thought it was a good idea to leave her phone number in a contact list at a phone store. When he called she didn’t answer, that wasn’t very surprising though, Oscar wouldn’t have answered either. He did leave her a message though, 

“Hi, Elizabeth. It’s Oscar. I was just wondering why you left your number in a phone at the mall. I mean, you really have no idea who’ll get ahold of it. Risky business. It’s a dangerous world out there.”

“Who the fuck are you talking to?” Evan asked.

Oscar hung up and put his phone back in his pocket. “Some girl named Elizabeth.”

“How do you know her?”

“I don’t. She left her number in a phone and I took it.”

“Why?”

“Because I could.”

“What if she’s a serial killer?” Evan said, in all seriousness.

“If she was a serial killer, why would she leave her number in a phone? Wouldn’t she take numbers?”

“Oh. Yeah. That makes more sense. What are you doing with her number?”

“I thought we could be friends. Text periodically. Tell each other our life stories without worrying about judgment because we’re both absolute strangers. It’s pretty poetic. And romantic. Maybe I can date her.”

“What if she’s a dude?” 

“I’m not picky. How many boys do you know named Elizabeth?” 

“I know an actual person named Oscar Mayer besides the actual Oscar Mayer guy and that’s made me know better than to question what parents will name their children. Seriously, what the fuck were they thinking?” 

“I’m still having difficulty deciding whether they just hated me or were inebriated.”

Because she hadn’t answered her phone and Evan had brought up the fact that Oscar was named after hotdogs, Oscar decided to text her:

 

its oscar. why dont you answer the phone for me anymore? i thought we were friends liz dont do this. ill do anything. please just give me another chance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is discussion of possibility of rape, as in, "a teenager girl is texting a complete stranger and that could end badly" possibility of rape. I've asked several people their opinions to try and gauge if it could be triggering for some people, and they cleared it, but if that sounds like something that could be triggering for you, maybe just don't read it.

Elizabeth literally screamed when the number that had just called her sent her a text. She screamed and then threw her phone across the room. Her father knocked on her door to ask what was wrong, but she told him it was the television show she was watching and to not worry about it. After he walked away, she had second thoughts about telling him not to worry about the strange man named Oscar who was contacting her. She definitely didn’t know anybody named Oscar. She wasn’t even Facebook friends with anyone named Oscar. Elizabeth would have shrugged it off as being a wrong number if he hadn’t called her Elizabeth, but then he had gone and called her Liz, so maybe it really was a wrong number and a very strange coincidence that she and the other Elizabeth had the same name. 

She called her friend Sabrina and asked what she should do. Sabrina seemed unperturbed. After a long pause and a very heavy sigh, Sabrina suggested ignoring it. Elizabeth didn’t want to ignore it though, because what if he had actually been trying to reach another Elizabeth, and they were actually in love and they needed to get together again, but he had the wrong number and then they would never be together. Sabrina came over to Elizabeth’s to see if rationality seem more reasonable if she gave the advice in person.

When she got there, Sabrina commandeered Elizabeth’s phone and listened to the voicemail, which Elizabeth hadn’t actually done yet. Sabrina found her face of realization extremely satisfying and handed the phone back with a wide grin.

“What kind of freak takes people’s numbers off those contact lists?” Elizabeth did not sound very impressed. 

“What kind of freak leaves their phone number for freaks to take and text?”

“I’m texting him back,” Elizabeth said decidedly. 

“He’s probably a rapist.”

“What if he’s cute?”

“What if he’s a rapist?”

“I didn’t say I was going to meet him,” Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she chewed on her lip while thinking of an appropriate response. After a moment of deliberation, she decided that playing along would be the best choice.

I JUST NEED TIME AWAY FROM YOU. YOU’VE HURT ME SO MUCH, OSCAR. I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU THINK YOU ARE GETTING MY NUMBER. THAT’S PRETTY BALLSY OF YOU TO JUST TEXT ME OUT OF THE BLUE AND ASK FOR ANOTHER CHANCE. THERE’S NO GOING BACK ON WHAT YOU DID, OSCAR. I CAN NEVER FORGIVE YOU.

Elizabeth thought that it was a lot funnier than Sabrina did. Sabrina thought that it sounded like she was flirting with him and that he was going to track her cell phone and abduct her later that night. Instead he just texted back. 

 

wait what

 

Elizabeth smiled. It was a nice feeling to know she had won. She texted him a winking face and threw the phone across the room again so she wouldn’t be tempted to cancel the text. Sabrina looked worried as to what exactly Elizabeth had just texted him, and then hit her when she saw.

“That’s the horniest of emoticons! What are you doing? He could be some creepy ass rapist and you’re texting him winky faces!? Do you want to be kidnapped?”

“He doesn’t know where I live. And some people use winky faces in a nonsexual context.”

“Who the fuck does that?”

Elizabeth couldn’t think of anyone. “Well, he doesn’t know where I live.”

“Phones have GPS tracking devices in them. He knows your area code. He has a fairly good idea of where you live.”

“I’ll sleep with my windows shut tonight then. I’ll even lock them.”

“Why do you sleep with your windows open?” Sabrina screeched.

“Because it gets hot in my room,” Elizabeth said matter-of-factly.

“It’s almost May! How hot can it get?”

“Hot enough to sleep with the windows open. OH MY GOD!” she yelled when her phone started vibrating in Sabrina’s hand. Elizabeth got off her bed and yanked it from Sabrina. It took her several times to type in her passcode before she could finally see his response.  
im really confused now. you werent supposed to play along.

 

YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO TAKE A RANDOM GIRL’S PHONE NUMBER FROM A PHONE AT THE MALL.

 

well you werent supposed to leave your number there for anyone to take. you brought this upon yourself.

 

I DIDN’T THINK ANYONE WOULD ACTUALLY CONTACT ME.

 

then why did you even bother? also your selfie lacked creativity. 3/10 would not recommend

 

ARE YOU CALLING ME UGLY?

 

no. im calling you uncreative. :D

 

YOU SEEM MEAN.

 

i resent that. you dont know me.

 

I COULD KNOW YOU.

 

um. my friend wants me to ask you if youre a serial killer because hes convinced that youre going to try to murder me or something for texting you. and if you are could you please not kill me because im kinda digging this whole living thing

 

I’M NOT SERIAL KILLER. MY FRIEND WANTS ME TO ASK YOU IF YOU’RE A RAPIST. AND IF YOU ARE, COULD YOU PLEASE NOT RAPE ME BECAUSE I’M KINDA DIGGING THIS WHOLE VIRGIN THING.

 

“No, don’t mention me!” Sabrina yelled. “Why did you say you were a virgin? That’s entirely unnecessary information. Now he’s going to think you’re coming onto him!”

“I don’t think he will. And what if I am coming onto him? He seems nice.”

“Why did you just text him that he seemed mean then?”

“I was being coy,” Elizabeth rolled her eyes and tried to make it sound like that was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Well, you’re doing a bad job of it. It just sounds like you’re trying to flirt, but you can’t even type the right words because you’re so clueless.”

“You’re a butt,” Elizabeth threw a pillow at Sabrina, who was mostly unfazed. Her phone vibrated again. “Good news, he says he’s not a rapist. Guess I can sleep with my windows open tonight.”

“That’s exactly what a rapist would say.”

“That’s also exactly what a person who isn’t a rapist would say. And only a lying rapist would say that. I think Oscar’s pretty truthful.”

“You don’t even know his real name is Oscar.”

 

IS YOUR REAL NAME OSCAR? MY FRIEND DOESN’T BELIEVE YOU.

 

yes. is your real name elizabeth?

 

YES. WHY WOULD I LIE ABOUT THAT?

 

why would i lie about my name?

 

BECAUSE YOU ALREADY HAD MY NAME. 

 

im a little offended that you think im a liar.

 

MY FRIEND THINKS YOU’RE A LIAR.

 

but you had no qualms going along with it. 

 

I WAS REASSURING HER. TOUCHY.

 

rude.

 

“Does he seem normal enough to you now?” Elizabeth asked. 

“I mean, he’s acting normal. You’d be surprised how easy it is for criminals to act normal. Just - just don’t be giving out your real information. Like, don’t tell him where you live.”

“I thought you said he already had my area code and could track my cell phone.”

“Okay, yeah, but assuming he isn’t going to track your phone, just tell him your address or meet up with him or do something stupid like that.”

“I’m not an idiot, Sabrina.”

“I know. You just, I mean, what if you start talking and then you guys have a lot in common and then you exchange pictures and he’s cute too and then you have a crush on him, and then because you have a crush on him you feel comfortable telling him everyone about you in hopes that he has a crush on you too and then he’ll actually end up being a rapist serial killer and you could die. And then I would be out a best friend. So let’s have that not happen.”

“I really think you’re overreacting. Consider the amount of people that meet via methods other than face to face annually, and think of the percent of those that result in murder. Also: Take into account how many face to face encounters and initial meetings end in murder. Or, I guess you’re more concerned with rape.”

“I’m not more concerned with rape, I just think that’s it’s more likely that you’ll be raped than you’ll be killed,” Sabrina looked like she was about to make another point, but Oscar texted again.

 

youre calling me touchy and you cant even respond to me?

 

I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT I WAS SUPPOSED TO SAY.

 

you could have asked me how my day was.

 

BUT I REALLY DON’T CARE HOW YOUR DAY WAS.

 

why not?

 

BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW YOU.

 

just because you dont know somebody doesnt mean that youre incapable of caring about them. do you not care about me? i thought we had something special. im very offended.

 

I’M SORRY I OFFENDED YOU. HOW WAS YOUR DAY?

 

boring. i had to go to the mall.

 

WHAT REQUIRED YOU TO GO TO THE MALL?

 

i was bored and there wasnt anything else to do.

 

YOU DON’T HAVE ANYTHING THAT YOU ACTUALLY NEED TO DO?

 

well i do. but i took the day off.

 

ARE YOU AN ADULT?

 

yes. are you not?

 

Well shit. Elizabeth handed the phone to Sabrina. Her hand was shaking a little bit, so she quickly rested her head on it to make it look like she was unconcerned and nonchalant about the whole thing. By adult he could have meant eighteen, and there wouldn’t even be a full year age difference, but he could have also meant forty-five and living in his mom’s basement adult, and then there would be a large age difference and Elizabeth would have been significantly more terrified of him. Sabrina looked very smug when she saw the phone. She got an “I told you so” look and gave the phone back without offering any advice. 

“What am I supposed to say?” Elizabeth hissed.

“I told you he was a creep.” 

“Okay, we don’t know how old he is. Just because he’s adult doesn’t mean he’s a creep. You’re an adult.”

“Okay, no. Eighteen is not an adult. I refuse to accept that.” 

“What the fuck am I supposed to tell him?”

“I guess tell him that you’re not an adult. I mean, he might stop texting you because of pedophile charges or something.”

“It isn’t really pedophilia. We’re just talking. I talk to my teachers all the time. They’re adults.”

“Okay, but I don’t think you flirt with your teachers.”

“Fine.”

 

NO, I’M NOT.

 

oh. does my adulthood bother you?

 

THAT DEPENDS ON HOW FAR INTO ADULTHOOD YOU ARE. DOES MY CHILDHOOD BOTHER YOU?

 

that depends on how close to adulthood you are.

 

WHY?

 

why does it matter to you?

 

BECAUSE MY PARENTS WILL BE SIGNIFICANTLY ANGRIER IF I’M TEXTING A FIFTY YEAR OLD MAN THAN IF I’M TEXTING AN EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD.

 

well im not either of those ages. and several people would frown upon me texting an eight year old.

 

I AM NOT EIGHT. HOW OLD ARE YOU?

 

twenty. how old are you?

 

ALMOST EIGHTEEN.

 

define almost.

 

SEVENTEEN AND TEN MONTHS. DOES THAT FIT YOUR DEFINITION OF ALMOST?

 

i would consider that almost. im glad youre not eight.

 

I’M GLAD YOU’RE NOT FIFTY.

 

can we be friends then?

 

I THINK BEING HAPPY WE’RE NOT SEVERAL DECADES APART IS A POOR FOUNDATION ON WHICH TO BUILD A FRIENDSHIP.

 

i think that friendship can be built on anything.

 

I THINK THAT’S IDEALIZED AND OVERLY ROMANTIC.

 

youre romantic.  
shit.  
no.  
it wasnt supposed to sound like that.  
ignore me.  
ill stop texting you now.

 

YOU’RE JUST GOING TO DITCH ME? OSCAR, I THOUGHT WE HAD SOMETHING.

 

and then i told a seventeen year old that i thought she was romantic and if you show that text to the authorities and not give context than i could be in very big trouble and i dont want to register as a sex offender because im not a criminal.

 

I’M NOT GOING TO TELL THE AUTHORITIES ANYTHING. YOU HAVEN’T ACTUALLY DONE ANYTHING WRONG. 

 

this is true. i dont know. can we still be friends?

 

I REALLY DON’T KNOW YOU.

 

:’(  
you just made a grown man cry.  
i hope you’re happy with yourself.

 

WHY DON’T YOU TELL ME ABOUT YOURSELF AND WE CAN SEE IF WE ACTUALLY HAVE ANYTHING IN COMMON. MOST FRIENDSHIPS DON’T START OUT WITH ONE PARTY DECIDING TO BE FRIENDS.

 

my favorite color is red. what’s yours?

 

YELLOW.

 

ew. why do you like yellow?

 

I DON’T THINK WE CAN BE FRIENDS.

 

im sorry i insulted your favorite color. i collect rocks and pokemon cards in my spare time. im in school to become a neurobiologist and i hate every second of it but i dont want to switch my major. i had a childhood that was full of parents who loved me but i was a living hell because of my name. i really dont like long walks in the rain and i think pina coladas are the worst thing in existence. 

 

WERE YOU GROUCHY? WHAT’S SO BAD ABOUT OSCAR?

 

my last name is mayer.

 

MY BALONEY HAS A FIRST NAME IT’S  
O  
S  
C  
A  
R

 

stop now or were never going to talk again.  
that is the exact thing that made my childhood a living hell. 

 

I THINK YOU’RE OVERREACTING.

 

i dont think youve ever been a six year old boy named oscar mayer. i still have nightmares about those jingles and im not even kidding.

 

MY SINCERE APOLOGIES. I’LL TRY MY BEST TO REFRAIN FROM REFERENCING OSCAR MAYER WIENERS IN THE FUTURE.

 

see that you do. can we be friends now? you know things about me. 

 

YOU’VE BEEN COMPLAINING ABOUT YOUR CHILDHOOD, I CAN’T REALLY RELATE. 

 

i like pokemon. do you like pokemon?

 

I HAVE PLAYED IT BEFORE AND FOUND IT MILDLY ENJOYABLE.

 

okay but have you watched it?

 

NO.

 

have you read the manga?

 

NO.

 

play the card game?

 

NO.

 

why dont you tell me about the things that you like?

 

I ENJOY STARBUCKS.

 

you were just complaining about how age similarity is a poor foundation for a friendship and now youre suggesting mutual interest in a coffee shop chain would be a better one.  
im slightly confused.  
wait what does that even say about you?  
how am i supposed to relate to that?  
i think youre setting me up for failure.  
you dont want to be my friend do you?  
i feel betrayed.  
okay can you at least text me back?

 

Oscar had given her more than enough time to text him back. Over the course of their conversation, he had arrived home and was very content laying on his bed and texting her. He hadn’t even dropped his phone on his face and he had been like that for almost an hour. He was proud of himself for the not dropping his phone thing, but didn’t like the thought he had scared her away. It would be like him to scare someone that he hadn’t even known for an hour and a half away. It was quite a feat though. He thought he deserved some sort of medal for it or something. He could mount it next to his neurobiology and business diplomas behind his desk when he became CEO of Kwik Trip or whatever. 

He gave Elizabeth ten more minutes before giving up on her texting him back and he went into the living room to watch television. Evan had trudged back into his own room and thrown himself on his bed because he wasn’t as awake as he thought he was, so Oscar pretty much had it to himself. Which meant he could watch whatever he wanted without anyone judging him. Usually when he tried to watch something, he was teased and then the remote was taken from him. But it was one of the rare times that he got to watch the news without Evan laughing at him for it. Oscar turned to the local channel, put the remote on the end table, and took up as much space on the couch as he possibly could. 

The reporter was finishing the very end of a story when he turned it on, but she quickly transitioned into a story about a body that had been found in an abandoned boathouse. It had been there for several days. Whenever Oscar saw stories like that, he started to feel extremely unsafe. Because how was it that there was a body rotting in a building for five days before anyone even bothered to look for it? And then the reporter had gone on to say that police had absolutely no leads as to who was behind it and then Oscar had had to turn off the television and play Candy Crush for a few minutes to distract himself. 

And for the most part, he had done a fairly good job of it. He had gone back to class and made an effort to understand neurobiology. He put in extra hours at Kwik Trip, hoping to prompt his manager into hurrying up with giving him a promotion. For an entire week, Oscar didn’t really even think about Elizabeth. He was honestly too busy to be concerned with it, except a couple times when he was trying to fall asleep, he would remember her and wonder why she had stopped texting him. He couldn’t stop himself from getting curious about the odd timing of when she had stopped texting him and when he had heard about the murder. Unlikely didn’t always mean impossible and Oscar hated that.

He didn’t even really have anxiety or anything that would help explain his neuroticism towards the situation. Not watching the news helped. He ignored the papers. He didn’t know if the police had any leads on the murder. There were some people in one of his classes that were talking about the murder and Oscar had just gotten up and left. He was very proud of himself for getting over his pride enough to actually get leave. But as much as he knew he needed to avoid the case, he had a burning desire to know what had happened with the case. The initial report he had seen didn’t even talk about the cause of death. It was morbid, but Oscar had fascination with various murder techniques. Some of them were downright creative. Instead of looking up how that particular murder had occurred, Oscar entertained himself by going through some of the more obscure murder cases on Wikipedia. That had given him something to do that wasn’t making him think too much about Elizabeth. He thought he should get another sort of medal for distracting himself from his wandering mind. He was also pretty sure that they didn’t give out awards like that. 

As much as he tried to push the thought out of his head, Evan’s suspicions that Elizabeth was a serial killer kept echoing in his head and eventually he couldn’t take it anymore and texted her again. He knew that the body was five days old, and she had only been ignoring his for thirty minutes, but he just wasn’t able to shake the feeling. Oscar still felt like he was losing some sort of game by texting her to make sure she wasn’t a serial killer. He just didn’t know if he was losing to himself, her, or Evan. He wouldn’t mind as much if it was losing to Evan. But it really mostly felt like he was losing to himself and letting Elizabeth down. It was only made worse by the fact that he knew how preposterous he was being. 

 

hi. im assuming that youre done texting me and whatever, but there was a murder thing that happened and it was on the news right about the time you stopped texting me and this sound really weird but did you murder somebody last week.

 

NO.

 

okay. im relieved by this information. 

 

I’M GLAD YOU’RE RELIEVED. WHERE DO YOU LIVE? I DIDN’T HEAR ANYTHING ABOUT A MURDER.

 

eastby. wait where do you live then?

 

DUXBURY.

 

thats like three hours away. i thought you lived here. why were you at the mall?

 

BECAUSE DUXBURY DOESN’T HAVE A MALL AND THAT’S THE CLOSEST ONE.

 

thats stupid. its like a half day trip just to go to the stupid mall. thats six hours in the car. 

 

MORE LIKE TWO AND A HALF. ONLY TWO IF I’M DRIVING.

 

i wont drive with you then. thanks for the heads up.

 

IT’S POSSIBLE TO SPEED SAFELY.

 

id rather not take my chances. 

 

CHICKEN.

 

no no. not chicken. just safe. how fast are you even going to shave off a half hour?

 

LIKE FIFTEEN OVER THE LIMIT.

 

yeah no. never ever driving with you.

 

DOES THAT MEAN YOU PLAN ON MEETING ME?

 

i dont know. you havent even agreed to be my friend yet. i dont think a two and a half hour drive is worth it for someone who isnt even my friend.

 

I DON’T THINK WE’RE COMPATIBLE. I MEAN, YOU DON’T LIKE STARBUCKS, AND I DON’T REALLY LIKE POKEMON.

 

you said you found it enjoyable. liar. and i never said i didnt like starbucks. i think theyre fine. i just think that starbucks is also a bad thing to start a friendship on.

 

YOU ALSO KEEP ACCUSING ME OF BEING A SERIAL KILLER. AS FAR AS FRIENDSHIPS GO, WE’RE NOT REALLY OFF TO A GREAT START. 

 

youre being pessimistic. i dont think youre even trying to make this work. you still wont tell me anything about yourself.

 

WHAT? ASSURANCE THAT I’M NOT A SERIAL KILLER ISN’T SUFFICIENT INFORMATION?

 

youre the one that suggested getting to know each other in the first place. i think we should just declare ourselves best friends and get on with it.

 

GET ON WITH WHAT?

 

the friendship. 

 

DO YOU HAVE ANY FRIENDS, OSCAR?

 

yes.  
are you implying my social skills are subpar?  
im offended.  
youre very offensive.  
do you know how much this hurts my feelings?

 

I THINK YOU’LL LIVE. 

 

im not so sure.  
why did you want to know if i had any friends?

 

BECAUSE I WANTED TO KNOW HOW YOU STARTED BEING FRIENDS WITH THEM.

 

it wasnt anything like this. 

 

HOW DID YOU BECOME FRIENDS WITH THEM?

 

i lived with them and i found them to be okay people so i acted like an okay person towards them and then our okayness just turned into friendship over the months.

 

ARE YOU ONLY FRIENDS WITH YOUR ROOMMATES?

 

that would depend on your definition of friend.  
am i friends with you?

 

I’M SAYING NO FOR NOW. ANSWER THE QUESTION.

 

it still depends on your definition of friend.  
i mean i talk to people in my classes. i know their names and stuff but we dont really do anything besides complain about homework and cry over how hard the lessons are.

 

DO YOU REALLY CRY BECAUSE YOUR CLASSES ARE SO HARD?

 

said the high schooler.

 

I’M IN AP BIO.

 

i took ap bio too. i got an a.  
and then i decided to be a neurobiology major.  
and now i cry because my classes are so hard.

 

DID YOU FIND YOUR BIO CLASSES CHALLENGING?

 

not really. it mostly just did a bad job preparing me for neurobiology.

 

WELL IT WAS ONLY REALLY SUPPOSED TO PREPARE YOU FOR COLLEGE BIOLOGY. WHAT’D YOU GET ON THE TEST?

 

a five.

 

I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU’RE STRUGGLING.

 

because it did a bad job. majoring in neurobiology is something that i would not recommend to incoming freshmen.  
does biology count as a thing we have in common?

 

I GUESS.

 

does this mean were friends?

 

WHY DO YOU WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH ME SO BADLY?

 

do you find it creepy?

 

A BIT.

 

i can stop.

 

THAT MAKES IT MORE CREEPY.

 

how?

 

BECAUSE NOW YOU’RE TAKING MY OPINION INTO ACCOUNT AND CHANGING YOUR ACTIONS BECAUSE I TOLD YOU I DIDN’T LIKE IT.

 

isnt that what people are supposed to do?

 

IN THEORY, YES, BUT IT ISN’T COMMONLY PRACTICED.

 

well then ill keep bothering you until you say we can be friends.

 

WAIT, I’M NOT SURE THAT’S THE BETTER OPTION.

 

neither am i.  
i think it would just be easier if you said we could be friends.  
or science acquaintances.  
how do you feel about biology buddies?

 

WE CAN BE BIOLOGY BUDDIES.

 

yay!  
does this mean i can bitch to you about my homework?

 

ONLY IF I CAN ASK YOU FOR HELP WHEN I DON’T KNOW HOW TO DO THINGS.

 

can i ask you for help?

 

I DON’T THINK I’LL BE ABLE TO HELP YOU VERY MUCH.  
I GUESS YOU CAN IF YOU WANT TO THOUGH.

 

awesome.  
i actually need to go though. i forgot that i had a date tonight.

 

YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?

 

sort of.  
why?  
is this a jibe at my social ineptitude?

 

IT MIGHT BE.

 

youre cruel liz.

 

I DON’T GO BY LIZ.

 

why not?

 

BECAUSE LIZ SOUNDS LIKE IT’S SHORT FOR LIZARD.

 

but elizabeth is a long word.

 

I’LL START CALLING YOU HOT DOG MAN.

 

i would not be biology buddies with you anymore if you started calling me hot dog man.

 

THEN JUST CALL ME ELIZABETH.

 

fine.  
i really do need to go though.  
i dont know where my nice shirt is.  
its a fancy restaurant.  
elizabeth what do i do?

 

I DON’T KNOW HOW COLLEGE DATES WORK.

 

can i just wear a polo shirt?  
or is that cheating?

 

THAT’S CHEATING.  
DON’T YOU HAVE ROOMMATES? BORROW SOME OF THEIR CLOTHES.

 

youre a genius.  
we can be biology buddies and you can be my clothing consultant.

 

OKAY.  
I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO BE LATE.

 

i am. youre distracting.  
goddammit.  
i did the accidental flirting thing again.

 

YOU’RE FINE. I’M NOT GOING TO CALL THE POLICE.

 

promise?

 

I PROMISE.  
UNLESS YOU ACTUALLY DO TURN OUT TO BE CREEPY. THEN I WILL HAVE NO PROBLEM CALLING THE POLICE AND HAVING THEM ARREST YOUR ASS.

 

that sounds fair.  
same goes for you.

 

When Oscar looked at the clock all he could do was sigh because he was really unacceptably late and none of Evan’s shirts were ironed. Oscar did not have time to iron a shirt, so he ended up going in a polo. His sort of girlfriend (Maggie Owens) also considered it cheating for him to be wearing a polo shirt. He was going to explain the situation to her, but it seemed like a poor excuse to say he had been texting a high school girl and had almost forgotten that he had plans to go out for dinner. So he gave her a very sincere apology and a peck on the cheek as a gesture of reconciliation. Maggie complained that he needed to shave, which was another thing he had been planning on doing before going out, but didn’t have time for. He resolved to make sure to do a meticulous job preening himself before the next date with her. Even if she was a hypocrite, when she waved her arm to call for a waiter he saw some armpit stubble. He said nothing though, he was a gentleman, and it would be very impolite to point something like that out. Not that he wouldn’t refrain from it if she complained about his stubble again. 

The reason Oscar only considered her his sort of girlfriend was because they had gone on about ten dates, and sometimes they held hands when they walked to class, but there were no official declarations made and Oscar mostly just found her annoying. She was pleasant enough that he would go on dates with her, but then once they got halfway into it he began severely regretting that decision and wanted nothing more than to go home. He had wondered, on several occasions, if she would be easier to get along with if she was his actual girlfriend. Sometimes people changed when there were official boundaries, and her annoyingness could just be her not knowing the best way to break the ice and ask the question. Oscar certainly wasn’t going to do it though, so he let her flounder around and figure it out for herself. If it ever got really bad he could just start telling her that it wasn’t working out and they should pursue other partners.

That night, she hadn’t been that bad though. Oscar even went back to her place for a bottle of wine afterward. He could have sworn he had told her that he was only twenty, but once she had pushed the glass toward him it seemed pointless and a waste of perfectly good wine. After a few more glasses, he shoved his glass away and made eye contact with her.

“You don’t want more?” she sounded innocent.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“No. We were having a good time and I didn’t want to drink the bottle alone. You know, you can always just say that you’ve had enough.”

Oscar made a face. That had made perfectly good sense. “Okay. I’ve had enough.”

“There. Was that so hard? Do you want to move to the couch?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk and proposition me?” Oscar was suspicious. And slightly drunk.

“Why don’t you trust me all of a sudden?”

“I do trust you. I’m just making sure I know what’s going on.” 

“I’m not trying to proposition you, no. I thought we could watch some TV.”

“Could we also make out?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“You’re a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable.”

“What? Do you think I’m going to attack you or something?”

“No, just consent issues.”

“You’re very thoughtful,” Oscar mumbled. The wine was just making him sleepy now.

“I think I’m just going to take you back home. I didn’t know that you were this suckish at drinking. I’ll keep that in mind for next time though.”

“I’m not old enough to be drinking, I’m not supposed to be good at it.”

“Shit. I thought your birthday was last week.”

“No, it’s next week.”

“Damn it. Okay, yeah, I’m taking you home now. I think getting you drunk was illegal.”

“We didn’t even do anything.”

“We talked. I had a good time.”

Oscar nodded as he opened the passenger side door and got in the car. He had had a good time too.

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't edited at all (seriously, if you want to edit it, come talk to me, that would awesome). It's my NaNo novel, and it's only half finished because I hit 50k halfway through the month and then just sort of stopped, so I thought that posting it would make me finish it for real. Updates will be fairly random, but I'll try to update at least once a week. This has already been posted on my tumblr.


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